


The Price

by keirajo



Series: The Mercenary Alliance [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Desire, Lust, M/M, Mercenaries, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Target, Unrequited Love, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Deadlock is a good Mercenary, but he may have just bit off more than he could chew when his current target is a young Autobot named Hot Rod...……….
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Hot Rod
Series: The Mercenary Alliance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512947
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	The Price

_The heat of the flame-colored mech’s frame was addictive. The young mech mewled in ecstasy, his valve tightening around Deadlock’s spike. Right before overloading, the mercenary had to wonder if he was making a costly mistake…………._

**_ The Price _ **

“You know why you’re here, right?” Octone’s deep voice rumbled in the room. “Look up at me, Deadlock—you can’t afford to _‘mishear’_ my words at this point.”

That was something of an understatement in several ways. After all, Deadlock was presently at his apartment in Torux, having a holo-conference call with the Command Triad of the Mercenary Alliance. “ _Looking up_ ” at the Command Triad’s Operations Manager meant looking into the camera optic of his own communications system—because the grey-and-purple mech was just a hologram standing next to two other holograms in front of him. To the Command Triad, he would also appear to be a holographic presence standing before them.

“Your rank has fallen sharply in the past year—this is disgraceful for _any_ mercenary. You’re young and you get distracted too easily by your emotions,” Octone snapped, continuing on his lecture as soon as Deadlock looked up into the camera optic—and therefore his holographic image “ _looked up_ ” at them in their office center. “You slipped from a very high **_A ranking_** , so very close to an **_S rank_** , all the way down to a **_C rank_**. If you fail two more contracts, you will be back down at a starting **_D rank_** and you’ll be overlooked for assignments more often than you would be hired.”

“You have to believe me, sir—it’s merely been a confluence of ill omens and unfortunate coincidences!” The grey-and-white mech protested sharply, rubbing one of his frame’s yellow decorative runner lines absently. “You know that when I succeed at my contracts— _I succeed beyond expectations_!” Deadlock added, his optic orbs cycling down to a narrow opening, dimming the glow in the red optic glass.

“Yes—and that’s why you’re being given this special chance. Lockdown?” Octone said, his voice even and calm as he looked to his left at the green-and-grey colored mech beside him in the office. In Deadlock’s apartment, the glance seemed to shift to the right instead because of the holographic data reflection.

The mech with the spiky-pointed helm stepped forwards a little bit and held up a datapad. “You will be forwarded the details to your message system, Deadlock, but the result is simple—if you do not succeed in fulfilling this bounty contract you may be considered for an immediate demotion to a **_D rank_** and you’ll have to build your reputation all over again. However, if you succeed—this will bring your rank immediately back up to a **_B_** and we’ll find you a quality _‘next assignment’_ to bring you back up to your **_A ranking_** ,” Lockdown explained, waving his datapad dismissively as he stared into the camera optic, in order to show he was staring directly into Deadlock’s own gaze.

“I’ll do anything to regain my rank and status. I promise you, I _will_ succeed,” Deadlock responded, nodding eagerly.

But then Lockdown’s specific words sunk in. A “ _quality ‘next assignment’_ ”? What kind of an assignment was **_this one_** —which could clearly raise his ranking, but wasn’t a “ _quality_ ” assignment, apparently……? That would have to mean……….. ** _no_**.

_It couldn’t be._

It was an **_S rank_** mission that nobody wanted to take or even be associated with. **_S rank_** missions could be a lottery on what they were for—they could pose a high risk of danger, the target involved was unsavory in some way, the mission itself had great out-of-pocket expenses that wouldn’t be reimbursed by the Mercenary Alliance……………many various situations. Only **_S rank_** mercenaries could turn down an actual **_S rank_** mission, but for a lower ranking mercenary to be able to take an **_S rank_** mission could also grant a lot of prestige if they succeeded. The only thing was, bounties were never very high on an **_S rank_** mission—and missions marked as **_S ranks_** were extremely rare, as well.

“Very well, Deadlock, but remember—fail this one and you’re hanging by a thread,” Octone said, his image in front of Deadlock taking the datapad from the image of Lockdown. “Honestly, if you succeed in this mission—I’ll give you credits from _my own_ bank account to cover your expenses.”

That made Deadlock worry even more about the mission. He merely ducked his head politely and the holographic communication conference turned off. After the images of his superiors faded away, the grey-and-white mech walked over to his console and brought up the data on his mission and his target. The hype seemed to be a lot more than was necessary for this task, in fact, it was one small step away from sparkling-sitting!

The mercenary frowned deeply. **_What in the Pit was this?!_** He was glad Lockdown made copious side notes and observations on his mission statistics, because Deadlock had never even heard of this Autobot, much less could have even possibly have guessed why someone would put a bounty on him!

The target’s designation was “ _Hot Rod_ ”. According to Lockdown’s notes, he was young and idealistic. Unfortunately, this meant he had a tendency to screw up some well-planned missions that the Autobot High Command came up with. Hot Rod’s ideals usually paired up quite nicely with the often-spoken Autobot ideals, however—apparently this young mech had a tendency to jump in, do what he felt was right, even if it messed up the strategy of an Autobot mission.

It was honestly a wonder that Autobot High Command hadn’t just locked him up already on sheer principle!

Then Deadlock saw the batch of notes at the end.

“ _Hot Rod is very well-liked. He’s very friendly and he likes to help people. Prowl understands that a kind face during a growing war is a welcome addition. They cannot outright lock him up, because it would make them look bad and drive people away from potentially joining their side of the escalating war_.”

“ _Tch_. That’s the Autobots’ problem—they don’t have the guts to do what they need to do in this conflict,” Deadlock growled to himself, reaching over to toggle off the display when he saw one last side-note on the screen.

“ _Don’t let him know he’s a target of anything—just keep him busy for the next two sets. Keep him busy and away from a big mission that Autobot High Command has been planning for months_.”

_‘Don’t lock him up, because it looks bad—just keep him busy,’_ the young mercenary thought, gloomily. _‘I really **am** sparkling-sitting!’_

* * * * *

It wasn’t very hard to find Hot Rod, either—because the young mech was in the middle of fending off some raiders on a small community outside of Dekahex, that Deadlock believed was called “ _Versa_ ”. The bright orange and red that was primary on his frame stood out in the community’s general color schemes of teal and grey and dark blues. Deadlock had to admit, the young Autobot had guts and he had a reverberant voice that commanded attention—as he shouted out orders to a few around him—he was young and had charisma. If the young mech could harness **_that_** properly, then one day he’d make a fine commander for the Autobots.

Right now, though, they considered him a _pest_.

However, they considered him a pest worth keeping. Since Deadlock’s mission was merely to keep him occupied for two sets, the Autobots expected Hot Rod to come back to them in one piece and just as cheerful as he always was. _Clearly_.

Though it puzzled the young mercenary as to why this Hot Rod was out here all alone fending off raiders in the first place. According to the mission statistics, the flame-colored mech had been sent to Dekahex to serve guard duty on an ambassadorial party that was on its way to meet with some delegates in Altihex. The fact that he wasn’t in Dekahex meant he’d gone **_AWOL_** from his assigned unit to begin with and that shouldn’t really be tolerated by the Autobots in the first place.

_‘I can try to get that information from him, later—for now, I should offer my assistance to get his attention on me,’_ Deadlock thought, drawing his guns from his back over his shoulders, and rushing into the combat situation firing at the pedes of the invaders to drive them back.

“ _Gah!_ I can handle this, you jerk-with-the-guns!” The flame-colored mech, yelled. “Don’t kill anyone, okay? The dumb raiders are just after some supplies—they’re _not_ bad guys, they’re just poor and destitute!” He snapped, sharply, throwing a rock right at Deadlock’s helm.

The grey-and-white mech dodged the rock and sighed. “ _Fine_. I was just trying to drive them back anyways and help you out!” Deadlock growled.

What was likable about **_that_**? The flame-colored mech’s behavior was irritating!

But as he moved forwards to deal with the raiders in hand-to-hand combat instead, he saw exactly what Hot Rod was getting at. The raiders were dirty and underfueled, with dents and cuts all over their worn frames. **_This_** was the result of the growing war……….others were left homeless, fuel-less and scrabbled to try to keep alive. Judging by the primary frame colors on these raiders, they came from the south and were probably running ahead of the Decepticons cutting their swath as they moved north to face the Autobots in conflicts.

Eventually the small group of raiders knew they were outclassed and retreated. Hot Rod watched them go with a visor shield down over his optics, doing some scanning. Was he making sure they completely left the area or was he doing something else in his visual scanning?

“Well, they’re gone _for now_. But they’ve probably gone to look for another small community area and see what they can get from them,” the flame-colored mech sighed softly. “I’m going to go after them and……..”

Deadlock grabbed his arm and yanked on it hard. “You’re not going anywhere, kid……….despite your brave façade, you’re low on fuel and energy,” the mercenary snapped softly, holding onto the young mech’s arm tightly. “You won’t be of any sort of use to anyone without fueling and rest. So, don’t be a burden to them,” he added, sternly.

“ ** _Tch_** _. Whatever_ ,” Hot Rod pouted and stopped struggling. He knew that the grey-and-white mech was right, he was tired and he could use some Energon. “Name’s _Hot Rod_ and I’m an **_Autobot_** ,” he introduced, settling down as he turned to speak with the members of the small community area.

“I’m _Deadlock_. An unaligned mech,” the mercenary introduced, following very closely behind the young Autobot. “I came to Dekahex for some supplies as I travel north,” he added, making sure his cover story was solid.

“Gonna join the Autobots up in Iacon?” Hot Rod asked, kneeling to look over an injured mech’s damaged leg.

“Been thinking about it. I’ll know if I want to when I get there,” Deadlock said with a shrug. He watched the young flame-colored mech press and rub the injured area of the leg with his digits. Was the youth a medic, then? That hadn’t been in the mission statistics! “Are you a medic? You hardly look like one,” he asked, trying to be unobtrusive with his questions.

“First Aid asked me to get some field medical training, since I was always racing about—figured I might get to the injured faster than the medics on the battlefield,” the flame-colored mech responded with a shrug. “Ratchet thinks it’s a waste of perfectly good medical training, so First Aid’s been doing it on the sly with me.”

The young mech frowned as his digits pressed into a soft spot on the mech’s boot armour and the mech whimpered. “Looks like you might have some nerve line damage here. Can you guys call for a medic over in Dekahex?” He asked.

“I’ll see to it he gets proper repairs,” a stern femme with a stocky build grunted. “Thanks for helping us out, but you may want to get back to your unit in Dekahex before you get in a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Hot Rod sighed, rising to his pedes and stretching a bit. “See ya around, Deadlock!” He laughed, transforming into his alt mode and revved his engine to race off.

Deadlock transformed into his alt mode. He didn’t have wheels as this young mech did, so he hoped he’d keep up. “I’d like to follow you into Dekahex, if that’s all right?” The mercenary chuckled.

“ _Pfft_. I suppose I’ll slow down for an oldmech like you,” the flame-colored mech sighed.

* * * * *

Hot Rod paced around outside the main government building, worrying. His unit was gone, they’d moved on and probably reported him for desertion. He needed to contact Iacon to find out what to do now……..but they wouldn’t let him into the government building, to contact Iacon. Now he knew he’d be in serious trouble with Prowl—and he _didn’t know_ where the unit was going next.

“You’re still around, Hot Rod—what’s wrong?” Deadlock asked, walking up to the flame-colored mech carrying a box of supplies. He had to make good on his cover story once he got to Dekahex, of course, so he parted ways from Hot Rod and went to buy a few supplies—then he made sure his path would take him back towards Hot Rod. Having marked him, he knew he’d be able to find the flame-colored mech when he wanted to.

“ _Gah_. My unit left without me. Prowl’s going to see me incarcerated for this, I swear he has it in for me!” Hot Rod grumbled.

“Do you know where your unit went? Maybe I can help you get to them?” The grey-and-white mech asked, tilting his head curiously.

“The course was supposed to be secretive, so that the ambassadors wouldn’t be ambushed by the ‘Cons,” the flame-colored mech pouted. “I’m just the muscle, so I don’t know what the actual path was.”

“Well, pacing outside here when they clearly won’t let you in certainly won’t do you any good—why don’t you come stay with me for the recharge cycle and I’ll just take you back to Iacon, since I’m on my way there?” Deadlock said, smiling over at Hot Rod. “I’ve got a travel vehicle with some camping equipment. It won’t be so bad opening the top and sleeping under the stars for the night, I promise!” He laughed warmly.

“ _I guess I don’t have much of a choice_. Ironhide’s gonna kill me when I get back to Iacon and then Prowl’s gonna lock me up,” Hot Rod muttered, following Deadlock outside the city of Dekahex and to his parked vehicle.

It was a two-mech travelling vehicle with a large back unit that could be used for fuel-prep and sleeping over long travelling distances. The color was a dark-grey or “ _dusty-black_ ” some chromatists would call it.

“Have you travelled far, Deadlock?” Hot Rod asked, curiously. The vehicle looked awfully new, so he was skeptical of the mech having travelled very far at all.

“I’m not from the south, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’d’ve never made it through the Badlands in **_this_** ,” the white-and-grey mech responded, giving a light little chuckle. “Actually, I probably won’t make it all the way to Iacon, either, but I’ll go as far as I can with it—I mean, that’s what we have alt modes for, right?” He added with a smile over at the flame-colored mech. 

“I ‘spose so,” the flame-colored mech grumbled. “You can probably sell it for scrap further up north. They’re slagging all _non-essential equipment_ to make weapons.”

The young Autobot sounded very displeased when he said the latter of his commentary. If he was unhappy with the war…….why did he even join it? He could have remained unaligned and protected himself and all those he cared for— _never taking a brand and a cause_. If he were so against the growing Autobot versus Decepticon conflict—why did he throw in his lot with one of the offending sides?

“Not happy, are you?” Deadlock said, keeping his voice soft and conversational. “It’s a tough time to be Cybertronian anymore, that’s for certain.”

“ _Bah_. The whole war is dumb and I didn’t want to choose a side to begin with. Optimus Prime scooped me up from the streets of Selenum and told me that……….. _gah, never mind_. It’s so stupid, since nobody likes me or wants to be patient about teaching me things,” Hot Rod muttered, plunking himself down on the narrow wall-based seating in the back of the travel vehicle. “Only First Aid thinks I’m worth spending any time with. Optimus keeps saying for me to be patient and he’ll make time for me soon, but……….. ** _tch_**!” The young, flame-colored mech grunted, crossing his arms over his chestplate and crossing one leg over the other angrily, swinging the pede a little, back-and-forth.

_Well, now_ ………… ** _this_** was getting interesting. Optimus Prime took Hot Rod into the Autobot fold for a purpose, clearly. This would also explain why the mission was simply to keep the young, flame-colored mech out of trouble for a little while. The Autobots wanted or **_needed_** the brat-bot for a specific reason—so, they wanted him kept alive and safe. They just didn’t want his over-eagerness to “ _do good_ ” to get in their way of an upcoming skirmish or campaign against the Decepticons.

But why would _Optimus Prime **himself**_ take an interest in this young mech? And why wasn’t he following through on _that particular interest_ —instead, he allowed Prowl to give him assignments like any other general soldier mech or femme. Assignments like that, especially given the young mech’s tendency to rush in to help others, could very well _get him killed_. If the current commander of the Autobot forces **_needed_** him for something, then one would think that this Hot Rod would be kept locked away and protected instead. This was a very convoluted thing that this young Hot Rod was involved in. 

But it made everything else about the assignment make sense. _Don’t harm him, just keep him out of trouble for a little while._

“Would you like some Energon? It’s only mid-grade, since they won’t let you buy anything higher at the moment—all that’s being confiscated by the various troops,” Deadlock asked, going over to the small preparation counter and breaking open a container of Energel snacks to go with the drinks.

“Don’t I know it. I keep refusing to drink what they’ve **_stolen_** and I go buy my own stuff,” Hot Rod muttered. Then he changed his mind about continuing to be grumpy about his situation and looked over to smile at the mercenary. “Sorry, I’m making you listen to all my complaints and you’re just trying to help.”

“Well, I’ll admit, _I don’t mind_. After all, the longer you’re here with me, the longer I can admire your pretty frame,” the grey-and-white mech chuckled, walking over to the seating and handing a can of Energon to the flame-colored mech. He offered the box of snacks and Hot Rod took a couple, popping them into his mouth and chewing into them happily.

“You have a silver glossa, Deadlock,” the flame-colored mech chuckled warmly.

“Nope, mine is a pretty standard cadmium blue—light hue,” the mercenary chuckled in response, taking a couple snacks and then setting the container on the table. He hoped his flirting _wasn’t_ too blunt and too forceful. Because a very good way to keep this mech out of trouble would be to direct his energy into something enjoyable for them both. It would keep the younger mech content and, hopefully, _complacent_.

“ _Hmmm_. I think I’d like to see that,” Hot Rod responded, a lower tone coming into his vocalizer as he shifted on the small couch, took a swig of Energon and set his can down on the small table next to the snacks. Deadlock grinned wickedly and opened his mouth as Hot Rod leaned towards him. “ _Mmmmm_. I suppose it is……..” the flame-colored mech murmured, shifting closer and brushing his lips over Deadlock’s and thrusting his own glossa into the mercenary’s open mouth.

They kissed that way for several very long moments, oral fluids leaking from the corners of their mouths. When Deadlock pulled away first, he licked fluids from around Hot Rod’s mouth and chin, sensually, nibbling a bit along the pale grey faceplating’s jawline.

“A bit sloppy, but _you’re young_ ,” Deadlock teased softly, his lips skimming sensitive neck-cabling and listening the sudden upshift of the flame-colored mech’s internal engines.

“ _Hey, it’s not like you’re probably much older than me!_ ” Hot Rod pouted softly, however, he moved closer to Deadlock and was practically sitting in his lap now.

“Old enough to show you some new tricks, I think,” the mercenary chuckled lightly, sliding a servo down the flame-colored mech’s side and rested it lightly on the hip-plating. He rubbed a thumb gently over the right headlight panel on the mech’s hip-plating.

A soft hiss and a little bit of steam escaped a few flared plates on Hot Rod’s chest and back. Deadlock felt the frame in front of him begin to heat up even more. So, he dragged his other servo down to Hot Rod’s other hip and began rubbing that thumb on the left headlight panel as well. The flame-colored mech gave a light whimper and his lips parted to give a low mewling sound.

_‘Now **that** is absolutely sexy,’_ Deadlock thought, his own engines revving in response to a very eager partner before him. “You like that, _hunh_? What if I used my glossa rather than my fingers? Would you like it even more?” He chuckled, flicking the tip of his glossa up the line of the primary neckcabling, so eagerly bared to him.

“ _Y—yeah………….want………….. **want that**_ …………” Hot Rod whimpered, his arms sliding around Deadlock’s shoulders to grasp at panel seams on the mercenary’s back. He held on so desperately, as if he were about to fall into the Pit if he let go of the grey-and-white mech in front of him. The flame-colored mech offlined his optics, because he couldn’t bear visuals with all the frame stimulation he was receiving.

_‘He really is young. And cute. He plays up a big talk, but I think he’s a bit more innocent than he lets on,’_ Deadlock thought, nuzzling his nasal ridge and lips down the brilliant yellow flames on the younger mech’s chestplate. Mechs like this were becoming more and more rare as the war began corrupting innocence, even straight out of the birthing fields or Vector Sigma’s forging chamber itself. “I need you to let go of my back panels so I can lay you down and lick your lower frame,” the grey-and-white mech purred, his engines rumbling lightly as he let his EM field ripple a little bit with interest and lust.

“ _Okay_ …………” Hot Rod whispered, his voice very quiet that Deadlock barely heard him say the word. Then he unhooked his grey digits from panel seams and loosened his grip to pull away from the slightly older mech and sit in his lap, quietly. 

The flame-colored mech looked embarrassed, a light pink flush of color beneath his blue optic glass, on his cheek-ridging. Deadlock wondered if he’d done something wrong by asking the younger mech to let go of him. The young mercenary gently raised a black servo from Hot Rod’s hip and slid it along the side of the mech’s faceplate.

“Is everything all right? Do you still want to do this? I’m **_not_** the type to take an unwilling mech or femme to my berth,” the young mercenary murmured, leaning forward to rub his nasal ridge against Hot Rod’s.

“I’m not very good. **_I mean!_** I like doing it, but I’m not very good at doing it,” Hot Rod murmured, truthfully. “Everyone expects a lot more out of me, but no one’s taken the time to teach me how to be good at it……….. ** _at anything_**.”

That echoed what he’d said earlier, about how Optimus Prime scooped him up from the streets of Selenium and wasn’t taking any time to educate him, like he promised that he would. The war was stopping everyone from being and doing what they should—they kept telling Hot Rod they’d get to his education, but they kept leaving him hanging on and waiting for it. Even in interfacing, nobody had taken the time to show him how to enjoy it and do it properly………..they probably just thrust their way into his valve and rutted, maybe punctuated it with a few kisses and caresses to show they _weren’t_ being selfish and forceful about it, even though they were likely doing exactly _that_.

“Well, if you’re willing to let this road trip linger a little bit longer than you intended, I’ll show you how to do it right,” Deadlock chuckled, brushing his lips lightly against Hot Rod’s.

“They won’t miss me. Not until they supposedly _‘need me’_ ,” the flame-colored mech pouted, his grey servos curling into fists on Deadlock’s shoulders.

“Then we’ll take our time and enjoy ourselves,” the young mercenary responded, grinning at the younger mech sitting in his lap.

* * * * *

Hot Rod had never had servos roam or lips caress or glossa stroke like he’d felt from Deadlock, _all over his entire frame_. Without wanting to, he’d overloaded a couple times already, especially when the slightly older mech paid a lot of attention to his spike.

_And then…….._

And then Deadlock was eating out his valve and Hot Rod thought he’d died and gone to the Afterspark. After a heavy overload, the flame-colored mech laid there on the floor, watching the ceiling spin and sparkle with strobe pops flaring in his optics. His frame shivered and tremored lightly, rippling with aftershocks of his overload. He was dimly aware that Deadlock had gotten up and went over to the cabinets in the back of the vehicle.

“Here, let’s sit you up so you can drink some more Energon,” Deadlock chuckled softly, sliding a servo beneath the younger mech’s shoulders and pulled him up. The flame-colored mech gave a little gasp and shudder as the mercenary’s servo brushed his spoiler. “Still a little sensitive?” He asked, kindly, as the younger mech’s lips latched to the can of Energon and drank eagerly.

“M’spoiler’s _always_ sensitive………..use it in driving ‘n’ steering ‘n’ stuff,” Hot Rod murmured softly, his EM field touching lightly against Deadlock’s, wanting the comfort he craved from the other mech. “ _Wow_. Never knew it could be like _all that_. Never had overloads like **_that_** before.”

“You’ve got a lot of sensor clusters in your valve, it makes you very………. _ahem_ ………. ** _needy_** for a lot of attention there,” Deadlock chuckled softly, pulling the younger mech against him and lightly wrapping a neutral EM field around him. “Because you’ve got so many sensor clusters in your valve, all of them fight for charge—so, if you ever find someone you want to become a true partner, you need to make sure they’ve got a lot of stamina and high charge.”

“ _Ummmm_ ……..then how did you……..just with your mouth……….?” The flame-colored mech stammered, very quietly.

“I cycled charge in my glossa, not much, but I made sure to give attention to all of the clusters that I could reach with it—that made your valve _very happy_ ,” the mercenary laughed warmly, hugging Hot Rod’s shoulders. “I’m not certain why everyone’s overlooking a treasure like you, but I’m sure you’ll eventually find someone willing to invest.”

Hot Rod turned into the young mercenary’s side and pressed close.

Deadlock sighed and turned his head to plant a light kiss on the side of Hot Rod’s helm. “ _It can’t be me, though_. It would be nice, but I’ve got things I’ve yet to do with my life and I’ll admit—I can’t give you the attention you’d really need either,” he said, softly. “I don’t want to hurt you or abandon you like all the others. So, you’ll just have to accept a short friendship and some fragging from me,” he added, tightening his hug and kissing the flame-colored mech’s helm again.

“ _Okay_ ,” Hot Rod murmured, a deep sigh reverberating in his vocalizer. “I get it, though. And thanks for being honest about it.”

Then the flame-colored mech pulled away and laid back down on the floor, posing sensually. His optic glass was glowing bright blue and his valve lips parted a little as the younger mech spread his legs invitingly. Hot Rod’s grey spike pressurized and the biolighting along the transfluid pressure line pulsed lightly a vivid red color.

Deadlock had to admit, this was a very beautiful and very vivacious young mech. His life couldn’t have commitments, however—so, even if claiming this flame-colored mech in a more permanent manner would be so very enjoyable, he couldn’t do it. _It would ruin two lives if he even tried to do so_. The young mercenary leaned over the flame-colored frame and bent to kiss the mech passionately. Their glossa dueled and they parted with some heavy exventing.

And then Deadlock sank his thick spike into the waiting valve. It felt so very good around him—he hadn’t enjoyed interfacing like this in a very, very long time. The heat of the flame-colored mech’s frame was addictive. The young mech mewled in ecstasy, his valve tightening around Deadlock’s spike. Right before overloading, the mercenary had to wonder if he was making a costly mistake………….

Hours later, Deadlock came back online. He and Hot Rod had fragged for hours after that, until they were both very exhausted and slipped into recharge, clinging to one another’s frames. The very first thing he was aware of was that he was **_alone_** , on the floor of his travelling vehicle. The young mercenary patted the space next to him, where Hot Rod had been, and it was cool—the flame-colored mech had been gone for a while.

_That wasn’t good_. Deadlock had lost his target. He bolted upright and looked around, hoping that maybe the young mech had just gotten up to walk around or to get some more Energon. No, Hot Rod was _definitely_ gone.

“ _Awww, great—Octone’s gonna **kill** me._ He’s gonna make **_me_** pay **_them_** for the next two revolutions,” Deadlock groaned, burying his face in his servos and resting them against his knees. Just like he’d been warned—he got too emotionally involved and let the target turn it around and take advantage of him.

_Now he’d pay the price for his failure_.

Just then, he saw the datapad on the nearby table, where a few empty cans of Energon were. It was propped up with a small stand, so the screen was facing him. There was a little red light flashing in the corner of the screen.

“A message?” Deadlock muttered. 

It _couldn’t_ be from his superiors— ** _not yet_**. The mission was supposed to be like two sets or so. Even if they’d been watching him and saw Hot Rod escape, they’d give him a chance to give chase and lock back onto his target. Hot Rod had left behind a message, then………..

The young mercenary stood up and grabbed the datapad.

**_It was nice knowing you, Deadlock—you’re actually rather soft-Sparked for a mercenary._ **

“ _Pit……….he knew all along?_ Did I somehow give myself away?” Deadlock mumbled, scrolling down further.

**_Thanks for listening to me, too. And it was great interfacing, the best ever. The other mercenaries I’ve had the opportunity to meet treat me like a sparkling. You treated me like an equal. The Autobots may chew me out for going back to Iacon and failing, but I think I got something good out of it this time. Until we meet again!_ **

Deadlock couldn’t help but smile. Hot Rod **_was_** wonderful and he was likable and he was fun. The young mercenary knew he was still going to be lectured until the Pit consumed the Afterspark, but maybe the price he paid wasn’t so bad after all. He could work harder and climb the ranks again. It only took him fifty revolutions to do it the first time. All he had to do was focus on his missions even harder. He had a thought that there’d be no target like Hot Rod in his life ever again—it _should_ make all future targets easier.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make it hotter and more detailed and hung onto it long enough without it going that far. I blame my recent health issues and weird holidays.
> 
> Anyhow, if you didn't catch it--this is a universe where Hot Rod is fully aware he's going to succeed Optimus Prime one day. :)


End file.
